Wrapped Up In Christmas

by Janice Lynn

  A small sound escaped her lips, she inhaled, then nodded. “You’re right. I do.”

  Half the tree was decorated and already it was looking amazing. Sarah inspected the ornaments Bodie held, trying to decide if she was going to use them. Her dread had significantly eased at Bodie’s constant jokes and teasing.

  “Hey, Sarah?” Bodie lifted the lid off a box of glass ornaments that had belonged to Aunt Jean’s in-laws.

  Knowing another joke was on its way, Sarah shifted her gaze to Bodie.

  “What do you call an obnoxious reindeer?” he asked, giving her an expectant look.

  “I don’t know, Bodie. What do you call an obnoxious reindeer?”

  “RUDE-olph.”

  Giggling a little, she rolled her eyes. He was intentionally keeping her focused on him, and she appreciated his effort. She appreciated most everything about Bodie.

  “How is it that you know so many Christmas jokes when you profess not to like Christmas?”

  “It wasn’t by choice,” he assured. “Lou has a new one written on a dry-erase board each morning.”

  “And you committed them all to memory? Saving them up for moments like these?”

  “I read them all,” he clarified. “Hard not to since the sign is right next to the cash register. As far as memorizing them, I never had any intention of repeating them.”

  She lifted one of the antique glass ornaments from its box, running her finger over its smooth lines, before hanging it on the tree. “So why are you?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re smiling, aren’t you?”

  “Kinda hard not to with your corny Christmas jokes.”

  “Not mine. Lou’s.”

  She pulled another ornament from the box, deciding she was going to hang the glass ball in honor of the Hamiltons. “Tell me another.”

  “What does a sheep who doesn’t like Christmas say?”

  Putting the ornament on the tree, she turned, met Bodie’s gaze and waited for the punch line.

  “Baaaaaaa humbug.”

  “Good thing you’re not a sheep or you’d be baaing all the time.” Sarah snickered at the thought, then went back to the box see what was next.

  “Oh, here’s another ornament I made,” she cooed, lifting the angel out of the box and holding it out for Bodie to see.

  “Nice,” he enthused with a teasing tone. “How old were you?”

  She arched her brow. “You implying it looks like I was young?”

  He laughed. “Just curious.”

  “Third grade.”

  His forehead furrowed. “How do you remember that?”

  “Because I put the red hair on the angel because my schoolteacher had red hair. I thought she was beautiful, like an angel. I remember telling everyone that when I grew up, I was going to be her.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  “Grow up to be her?”

  He nodded.

  “Schoolteacher is a noble profession.”

  “Agreed, not what I meant.”

  She waited for him to elaborate and wasn’t surprised when she had to prompt him. “What did you mean?”

  “That, although I’m sure your third-grade teacher was great, she wasn’t you.”

  “And being me is a good thing?”

  “Look at how many people you help, how many lives you touch,” he pointed out. “Being you is more than good, Sarah. The world needs more people like you.”

  Heat flooded through her at his compliment. “That’s a nice thing to say, Bodie.”

  He shrugged as if what he’d said was no big deal. “It’s the truth.”

  “You’re not just saying that to keep me from getting all weepy over these ornaments again, are you?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Would I do that?”

  She laughed. “I wouldn’t blame you. Thank you for your patience and your jokes. I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “It’s fine. Everyone has off times.”

  Something in the way he said the words had Sarah glancing toward him, wondering what lay deep within him, what caused his “off times.” “Do you?”

  “Have off times?” He hesitated, then shrugged again. “Of course.”

  Not necessarily surprised that he’d shrugged off her question rather than give her an in-depth answer, Sarah inwardly sighed. She wanted to peel back his layers and expose what made him tick. No, not true. She wanted him to peel back those layers and choose to let her see. She suspected whatever had injured his leg was at the root of Bodie’s off times. How could it not be?

  “Well, if you ever need someone to help you through your off times, or to just distract you with corny Christmas jokes, I’m your girl, because you’re definitely seeing me through mine.”

  His facial expression went tight for the briefest moment, but then just when she thought his eyes were going to take on that stoic, bleak look they’d had when she’d first met him, he surprised her by grinning. “Do you actually know any corny Christmas jokes?”

  Despite knowing the absolute joy moving through her at his grin wasn’t good for her long-term well-being, she couldn’t stop the ecstatic feeling at the way that Bodie was teasing her, was enjoying himself, was determined she enjoy herself.

  “Do I know any Christmas jokes? Seriously?” She put her hands on her hips and gave him her most dazzling smile. “I am the queen of Christmas jokes.”

  He arched his brow in challenge. “Let’s hear them.”

  “Hey, Bodie?”

  “Not a knock-knock joke, I hope.”

  She looked upward. “Quit ruining my joke and play along.”

  His lips twitched.

  “Why was Santa’s little helper depressed?” she asked.

  He waited.

  “Because he had low elf esteem.” Trying to keep from bursting out in laughter, she thrust up her arms in victory.

  He snorted. “And you called my jokes corny.”

  “But you laughed,” she pointed out with a little sway of her head.

  “That I did,” he agreed, a wry grin on his face.

  Fifteen minutes later, the tree was done.

  “Hit the lights.”

  “How about I just turn them on?”

  “You knew what I meant,” she mock-accused, enjoying how he kept teasing her. She knew why he was doing it, that he wanted to keep her smiling. He was doing a great job, so great she really did feel ridiculous that she’d hesitated on decorating the tree.

  Grinning, Bodie pushed the on switch for the lights.

  Sarah’s breath caught. “Wow. That is the most beautiful Christmas tree ever.”

  “I bet you say that about every tree.”

  “Only when it’s true.” She clasped her hands together, turned to him and smiled. “Oh, Bodie, thank you for helping me. With the stress and with the tree.”

  His smile was real, reached his beautiful blue eyes, and put the tree to absolute shame.

  “You’d have done the same for me.”

  She had done the same for Bodie. Not that Sarah knew it.

  She’d made and donated a quilt that had, for whatever reason, resonated deep within him, shrouding him in selfless goodness that had shut out the darkness and wrapped him within its healing powers.

  What would Sarah say, think, if she knew he had her quilt?

  Part of him didn’t think she’d mind, that she’d love the fact that her quilt meant so much to him.

  Another part wondered if she’d consider him a crazy stalker with nothing better to do than track down a quilter and take on her home repairs.

  Yeah, that didn’t make him sound crazy. Much.

  Uncomfortable with his thoughts, he glanced around at the empty ornament boxes.

  “I’m going to carry these to the attic.”
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  “I’ll help.”

  There were only a few, but more than he could get in one trip, so arguing was futile.

  Regardless, gathering up the empty boxes changed the subject and that was his main objective. His and Sarah’s conversation had too many personal undertones.

  The single trip up the stairs didn’t bother his hip.

  Once they got the boxes stored, he turned and found Sarah eyeing the cluttered corner of the attic. It appeared to be the odds and ends storage area, full of bits of furniture, trunks, boxes, and who knew what else beneath the stacks, drop cloths, and layers of dust.

  “What’s all that stuff?”

  “Who knows?” she answered. “Once the estate was settled to where I could get started on the repairs, my priority was downstairs in hopes of getting things ready for the open house. I haven’t gone through things up here, beyond throwing out whatever got damaged when the roof leaked. Once I get the suites up and going, I’ll need to process all of this in hopes that some of the furniture will be useable.”

  “What happened to your aunt’s furniture?”

  “Everything from the downstairs suites is either stored upstairs, in my dad’s garage, or piled up in corners. The mostly empty upstairs rooms are from where she sold things over the years.”

  “If any of the items she sold were like some of the antiques downstairs, then it’s a shame she had to let them go.”

  “There were some beautiful pieces. But she needed the money.” He could hear the pain she felt that her aunt had had to sell her furniture, that Sarah hadn’t been able to help her. “Best I can tell, over the past five years, she was supplementing her income by selling things out of the house.”

  “Why didn’t she open the B & B herself to bring in some income?”

  Sarah shrugged. “Good question, and not one I have an answer to. Certainly, she and I talked about opening one often enough.”

  Sarah glanced over at the pile of stuff again.

  “I have to admit, part of the reason I’ve put off going through this stuff is because of the heartache of going through more of Aunt Jean’s things, rather than not having the time.” At his look, she added, “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been busy. My aunt kept things just done enough that no one suspected she was having money issues. Once she passed and I really looked around, I could see a lot of little things that should have been repaired or replaced years before. The house, the yard… so many things had been neglected.”

  “I’m sure she did what she could.”

  Sarah nodded. “Right up until she got sick just after Thanksgiving, she was a fireball of energy. But, truthfully, most of her time was spent helping me. From the time I could walk and talk, I could always count on Aunt Jean and the Butterflies to make any project I dreamed up happen.”

  Bodie tried to imagine Sarah’s childhood, the love that was directed at her from so many people, and he couldn’t. She was easy to…well, for her friends and family, she was easy to love.

  Take him, for example.

  He wasn’t in love with Sarah, but even as jaded as he was, he cared about her well-being. Sarah exuded goodness, so it was no wonder others wanted to help her, to be a part of that goodness in some way.

  A temporary way to feel good about himself.

  Suddenly claustrophobic in the attic, he took a step toward the door. He was ready to get back to work. Real work. The work he’d agreed to do. Not all this Christmas stuff she kept pulling him into.

  “You were lucky to have had your Aunt Jean.”

  “I was.” She nodded, then gestured to the cluttered section of the attic. “Maybe you can help me go through that stuff, too. It’s probably junk or she’d have sold it before she sold her furniture. But at some point, I do need to sort it.”

  He doubted he’d be there that long. Despite the detours, like taking most of the day to help Sarah with her Christmas tree, he was making good progress on finishing up her remodel and repairs. He’d complete his work, then head to Texas.

  Sarah smiled at him and that fluttery feeling swept across his chest again, threatening to steal his breath and his peace of mind.

  The sooner he finished with Hamilton House and got out of Pine Hill, the better.

  Chapter Ten

  “Yay, it’s the second-best day of the year!”

  Knowing where this was going, Bodie glanced up from where he worked in the second suite’s bathroom but didn’t say a word.

  Sarah looked as if she were about to burst with happiness. “Are you going to ask me why it’s the second-best day of the year?”

  “Nope.”

  “Bodie!”

  He couldn’t help but grin. She looked more like a little girl dancing around with excitement than a grown woman.

  “Not that I don’t know, but tell me. Why is today the second-best day of the year?”

  She rewarded him with a smile. “Because it’s On-the-Square Christmas Festival day.”

  “Where you have ornament hunts, present picks, and a parade?” he teased, thinking he never should have looked up and seen the gleam in her eyes. Looking into Sarah’s eyes tended to have him doing things he knew he shouldn’t do.

  “You have been paying attention,” she praised in a playful voice. “It’s also where we sell our snowflakes. Since you helped cut the pieces for some of them, you should be extra excited because you, Bodie Lewis, helped make today happen.”

  He gave her a dubious look.

  Unfazed, she asked, “You are coming by our booth, right?”

  Ugh. He knew where this was going. Knew he needed to steer clear.

  “I hadn’t planned to go to the festival. I figured I’d stay here and finish up,” he admitted. He was almost done with her original requests. There were still a few items to complete, but he’d systematically crossed off Sarah’s list of tasks one by one.

  A look of horror fell over her face. “How can you not go? I understand that you didn’t really get to celebrate Christmas while you were in the military, but guess what, Bodie?” Her chin lifted as she stared him down. “You aren’t in the military anymore, so you should celebrate Christmas and you should definitely go to the Pine Hill On-The-Square Christmas Festival because who knows if you’ll ever get the opportunity again?”

  He knew.

  He wouldn’t.

  Once he finished her house, it was unlikely he’d ever set foot in Pine Hill again. A sobering thought, but a realistic one.

  Sarah would go on spreading snowflakes and Christmas cheer and he’d go back to his life. Not the life he’d wanted or envisioned, but not a life that seemed as dark and dreary as he’d once thought it would be, either. Still, it would be a life that had no point of intersection with hers.

  “Say you’ll go,” Sarah pleaded with her words and her eyes. She could give Harry a run for his money on the full imploring puppy eyes.

  “You need my help with something?”

  She laughed. “That isn’t why I want you to go, but I can always use another helping hand if you’re volunteering.”

  Curious as to her reasons, he asked, “Why do I need to go, then?”

  “Because you’ll have fun.”

  Fun. How long had it been since Bodie had done something just because it was fun? How long since he’d even thought about the word “fun” prior to meeting Sarah?

  Thinking back, he’d admit these past couple of weeks with Sarah had been the most fun he’d had in years. He truly enjoyed spending time with her and taking in how she looked at the world through her Christmas-colored goggles and belief in ultimate goodness.

  Not that Bodie hadn’t enjoyed his time in the military or his off time with his buddies when they’d gone skiing or backpacking. He had. But time with Sarah was a different kind of fun. Lighter, fluffier, more child-like and innocent.

  “And because I’d rea
lly like you to be there,” Sarah continued, upping the ante. “I want you to go to the Christmas festival. Please go.”

  Her words got to him. Sarah wanted him at the festival. How could he say no?

  “If you need my help, I’ll go,” he agreed. He’d pretty much do anything to help her. Wasn’t that his ultimate purpose for being there? That he enjoyed spending time with her was just an added bonus.

  “If that’s the only way you’ll agree, then yes, I need your help.” Her smile was brilliant. “Never let it be said that I turned away a volunteer.”

  “Never. What do you need me to do?”

  “Want to help with the ornament hunt?”

  “‘Want’ is a strong word, but why not? What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “Great, but first we need to deliver the snowflakes and other ornaments to the booth. It’s early, but they’ll be setting everything up.”

  “And you’re not there?”

  “Not yet, but I should be, so let’s get a move on.”

  Sarah’s smile was so bright at the idea of them going together that he found himself glad he’d given in to her pleas.

  Then again, he enjoyed being with Sarah, and if that meant helping with an ornament hunt and attending a booth at a Christmas festival, he would.

  It was noon by the time Sarah and Bodie got the boxes of homemade ornaments unloaded. Several volunteers were already there and had set up their booths on the courthouse lawn. The large, commercial-style tent that contained the festival included several tables and boards and backdrops that divided up areas. One section was the homemade ornaments booth, another the Pick a Present game, and another baked goods and hot cocoa.

  The Sunday morning ladies’ class from church sponsored the baked goods and the money went to a cause of their choice each year. The proceeds from the game and ornament sales were solely to help fund Sarah’s special projects.

  “Slide that last box up under the edge of the table with the others,” she advised Bodie, stepping back so he could see where she meant.

  As she stepped back, she bumped into Harry.

  “Sorry, boy,” she told him, patting him on the head. “You need to move over there,” she told the dog, pointing to the side of the table. “That way you won’t get stepped on while we’re getting this set up.”